Una shook her head. "No, you know I only have the one black
pair. And they're so tight I can hardly get them on. They
wouldn't go on you. Neither would my gray ones. Besides, the
legs of THEM are all darned AND darned."

"I won't wear those striped stockings," said Faith stubbornly.
"The feel of them is even worse than the looks. They make me
feel as if my legs were as big as barrels and they're so
SCRATCHY."

"Well, I don't know what you're going to do."

"If father was home I'd go and ask him to get me a new pair
before the store closes. But he won't be home till too late.
I'll ask him Monday--and I won't go to church tomorrow. I'll
pretend I'm sick and Aunt Martha'll HAVE to let me stay home."

"That would be acting a lie, Faith," cried Una. "You CAN'T do
that. You know it would be dreadful. What would father say if
he knew? Don't you remember how he talked to us after mother
died and told us we must always be TRUE, no matter what else we
failed in. He said we must never tell or act a lie--he said he'd
TRUST us not to. You CAN'T do it, Faith. Just wear the striped
stockings. It'll only be for once. Nobody will notice them in
church. It isn't like school. And your new brown dress is so
long they won't show much. Wasn't it lucky Aunt Martha made it
big, so you'd have room to grow in it, for all you hated it so
when she finished it?"

"I won't wear those stockings," repeated Faith. She uncoiled her